


Not Again

by Khass_The_Cyberpunk



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Anger, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Corrupt Cops, F/F, Free Running, Gang Violence, Hacking, M/M, Parkour, Psychological Torture, Revenge, Technology, The Bratva, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-03 18:16:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14001795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khass_The_Cyberpunk/pseuds/Khass_The_Cyberpunk
Summary: A phone found, but no owner. CCTV footage missing but with a message. A few damaged studs and abandoned vehicle. A missing smartass and a very revengeful gang.





	Not Again

**Author's Note:**

> So I've not written a proper fanfic in a long long time. Here it is, with my own dark fantasies mixed in. It may not actually be canon to some of the characters and such but who gives at shit? At least I'm awake and doing something. This isn't serious work for me so there'll be around 2,000 to 5,000 words each chapter. I strain myself for the serious writing only.  
> Just let me know if I accidentally used the wrong word or something, I'll edit it, it's 4AM.

Buzzing. The first thought that popped into Marcus's head when he woke. His head was buzzing. He groaned, licking dry lips as he squinted staring up at the ceiling above him. The young man mumbled, turning on his side again, bringing a hand up to nurse his aching head. "M' glasses..." he mumbled, opening his eyes again, looking around. "Can't see shit" he said out loud, pushing himself up to sit up right on the couch. 

"Oh, you're awake" 

"Josh?" Marcus scratched his head, beanie tugging at his fingers. He took a moment to get his eyes to adjust as best as he could, glancing around the room. "Oh" he nodded his head, part of him feeling thankful to have found himself in the Hackerspace but the other half feeling annoyed that he didn't find his way back to his apartment. He groaned, lightly touching his head again. 

"You're dehydrated" Josh was closer this time, though a blurry image on Marcus's left side. "Here" he held out a bottle of water, and stood there, watching Marcus struggle for a moment trying to properly hold on to the bottle. "And still a little drunk" he added once the bottle was removed from his light grasp. 

Marcus snorted at the comment, twisting the lid to get to the very mild tasting liquid. He bought the bottle up to his lips, tilting his head back and downed as much as he could, curing a thirst he didn't realise he even had. "Ah, fuck" he mumbled, putting his hand back to his aching head. Shouldn't of done that. Moving too quickly with a headache. He closed his eyes, the blurriness not helping him. "Where's uh..." he put the bottle down as he stood up. "My glasses?" he asked, looking at Josh, soon squinting again. 

Josh showed no expression but a small smile appeared on his lips. "You look funny like that" he spoke, looking around the room briefly. "Found them" his eyes locked on target. "Sit back down, I'll go get them" he walked away from the couch, watching from the side as Marcus slumped back down on to the sofa with an annoyed grunt. Josh knelt down, tilting his torso slightly and reached under the desk, picking up the now found specs. He pushed himself up, then glanced at the desk, pursing his lips together. His brows furrowed as he stared at a photograph of Horatio. He still felt a minor ting of sadness in his chest. He didn't understand it, but it was better than nothing, especially when some people with Aspergers wouldn't feel a thing. "Who were you with last night?" he asked, walking back to the hungover man. 

"Sitara and Wrench" Marcus mumbled a reply, finishing the last of the water. He put the empty bottle down, taking the glasses from Josh's hand. He pushed them on, soon feeling better without the minor blur. "I'm gonna guess they aren't even here if you've asked me that" he stood up, picking up his bottle. "Shit, where's my phone?" he mumbled to himself, patting down his jean pockets. "Crap, not again" he was ready to smack the empty bottle to the floor until he glanced over at Wrench's work bench. It was on charge. 

"It was on the floor by the door when I came in, thought you'd need it charged" Josh spoke up from the silence in the room again, beginning to tap away at his computer. 

Marcus stared for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, thanks" he pulled the phone off charge, turning it on. There were a few messages from Wrench, two which made no sense indicating he had been struggling previously to type out a message properly. One was a voice recording, while the last was a picture. Underneath was a message from Sitara that made Marcus laugh out loud. "I somehow got banged by a chick with false nails, no scratches?". He shook his head, feeling more stable on his feet now he had had something to drink that wasn't made to get him drunk. He recalled last nights events, thinking about how quick everyone was to party. Sitara was eyeing up a bartender who was sliding shots to them at the bar, Wrench had been doing an hilarious karaoke routine which involved Ballroom Blitz. He got drunk quick too. He only had a few bottles before he had to hold on to Marcus for support.

Josh stopped typing for a moment, noticing the sudden silence. He glanced behind himself, looking over at Marcus who was now stood as still as a human statue. "Marcus?" he tilted his head slightly, finding this odd. "You ok?" he asked, feeling minor concern for his friend. 

Marcus shook his head, forcing himself to snap awake. "Yeah, I'm good, just... M' just worried" he mumbled, walking to the stairs. "I'm gonna go find Wrench" he opened up the voice message left on his phone, putting his earbuds in. 

_'Marucs? Sumtin'... sumtin' wrong... roofied'_

_'There you are!'_

_'No, don't.. don't fuckin' touch me!'_

Marcus stopped just by the exit, staring at his phone. His chest tightened as the words repeated in his head. Roofied? Wrench got roofied? It made sense now, how quick the anarchist got drunk. He was drugged. He played the message over again, listening to the voice in the background just before Wrench let out a yell. What was that accent? He crouched down, staring at his phone, eyes wide with concern. He had heard it before, hell, even recognised the voice. It was Russian. The Bratva? He couldn't recall anything they did recently to piss them off again. He opened up the picture that was sent previously wondering if this was some kind of clue. Marcus nearly crushed his phone when the picture opened. 

His punk obsessed hacker was laid down on his back, hands behind his back, mask displaying angry emotes. There was someone standing above Wrench, hand reaching down about to strangle? Grab? Wrench's legs weren't bound together, but they did seem to have been struggling previously as suggested by the drag marks in the ground. 

Marcus turned away from the door, skipping steps as he ran down. "Josh, call the others! Wrench is in trouble!" 

-*-

T-bone, Sitara, Josh and Marcus stood staring up at the screen in front of them, looking over the picture of Wrench. Each of them had shown concern, worry and fear both for themselves and Wrench. Marcus stared, no, glared at the image, clenching his fists. Wrench had gotten angry at an event similar to this one before but now it was Marcus's turn to express the rage. 

"What did we do now?" T-bone sighed, scratching at his beard as he turned away from the screen. He had seen some shit, but having to see things like this over and over again would make him uncomfortable, make him rethink past events. "Why though?" he turned, looking back at the screen, questioning the reasons behind this. 

"Maybe all the times we've invaded their territory? Stopped their jobs?" Marcus suggested, walking away from the screen himself, trying to calm himself down. "Josh, can you see if you can find anything in that picture on your computer?" he asked. 

Josh nodded, speed walking quickly to his desk. He felt uncomfortable with the picture but he could make it quickly go away the faster he worked, the quicker he searched. 

Marcus stared at his phone as it buzzed, a picture of Wrench pressing himself against a window in order to look trapped in Marcus's phone whenever he called. He was hesitant to pick it up at first, but swallowed his fear, quickly answering the phone. He put it on speaker. "Wrench?" 

"You might want to check that little livestreaming website" 

The three stared at the phone, neither of them moving. They didn't want to move, none of them wanted to witness what the Bratva were streaming. Questions ran through the team's mind, mostly on what was happening to their friend. Marcus gripped the phone, sucking in a breath, then loosening his grip and releasing his breath. He sat down on the couch, setting his phone down beside him, feeling his chest tighten as he removed his laptop from his bag. 

Sitara picked up the phone, "What are you hoping to gain from this?" she asked the stranger on the other end. 

"You've stolen from us, killed some of our members, we want DedSec on its knees before we destroy you completely”

The threat nearly made no sense in Sitara’s mind. “What do you mean on our knees?” she asked, swallowing. There was only silence on the other end, soon the sounds of men beginning to cackle. “What do you mean on our knees?” she repeated her question, louder, wanting an answer.

“We’re coming after you of course! You’ll be losing your hide outs, your members! But don’t worry, misfits like you enjoy games, right?”

Marcus gritted his teeth letting out a curse. He put the laptop down, walking away from it, hands on his head, his breathing picking up.

Sitara hesitantly looked towards the laptop. “Oh my god” she whispered, covering her mouth.

Wrench was on the screen, the number of people viewing the live stream was going up by the second. The anarchist was laying on the floor at what looked to be an old warehouse, hands still bound, face down in the dirt. He wasn’t moving. His wrists were red, seemingly burns from his struggles against the rope.

“We’ve planted a few bombs around your hideouts last night, each bomb has a number, each number is the answer to a question, answer correctly and we reveal which hideout has that number, answer wrong, and we’ll blow up the hideout”

“And what about our friend, assholes?!” T-bone growled, walking over to Sitara and grabbing the phone. He may have clashed often with Wrench, but he still considered him his friend no matter what.

“Your little buddy here is going to go through much more than your trash filled buildings will” the laughter from the members erupted again.

Marcus looked at his laptop, folding his arms. He stared at the limp body, and closed his eyes, trying to keep his breathing under control. He couldn’t freak out, not now. There were questions that needed answering, hackerspaces that needed emptying and someone who needed saving. He looked away. “And if we get every question wrong, then what?” he asked, fearing the answer itself.

“We kill your friend here, and blow up every hideout”

Marcus gritted his teeth, clenching his fists. He shook his head. “I’m not gonna let that happen” he mumbled to himself. “What are these questions?” he asked, looking at his phone and reaching forward to remove it from Sitara, who’s hands were now shaking.

“There’s a member outside of the Painted Ladies who’s carrying the first letter, if you get the question right, they’ll reveal to you which hide out gets saved or blown up, better get moving DEAD sec”

They hung up.

Marcus stared at the phone in his hand and looked over at the laptop, staring at Wrench. He still hadn’t moved and that scared Marcus. What if he was already dead? No, he couldn’t think that way now. He couldn’t think that way at all. “Sitara, can you warn the others? Make sure everyone stays away from the hackerspaces?” he asked, immediately forcing his mind to get to work.

“On it” Sitara nodded, pulling out her phone and picking up her slow limp work into a fast one.

“Josh, did you find anything in that picture?” Marcus walked over to the Aspie, leaning over by him, looking at the screen.

“Nope, nothing, the car doesn’t even have a license plate, however the picture and the livestream are in the same place in comparison” the information was seemingly useless, but it might gain some the more it was looked in to. “Should I keep an eye on the livestream?” he asked, already going through several plans in his head. He was going to try his hardest to track down where Wrench was.

Marcus nodded and stood up, turning and grabbing a hold of T-bone’s shirt, dragging him a few steps across the floor before letting go. “C’mon, we’re going to that damn courier” he was ready to fight his way through each question.

-*-

_“Marcus?” a soft voice spoke up, interrupting the hacker’s sleep. “Marcus, get up, I’m bored” Wrench mumbled softly, nudging a bare foot against Marcus’s shoulder. “M…” he bought a ready rolled cigarette up to his lips, taking a puff of the cancerous stick. He leaned his head back, breathing the smoke out through his nose._

_Marcus chuckled as he adjusted to the waking world. He looked up at the blur that was sat awfully far yet close. He picked up his specs, slipping them on. He looked up at the dirty blonde man, running a hand along his bare leg till he reached the scrunched rolled up end of the sweats. He pressed a kiss lightly against Wrench’s ankle. “Did I oversleep?” he asked, looking at the window behind the anarchist. The sun seemed to be setting, making the room look a burnt orange._

_“So, did I, but who cares? I prefer the night anyway” Wrench’s lips tugged up into a smile. He leaned back tugging the large white hood further of his head. The hoodie of course was an oversized one that belonged to Marcus, but he wasn’t wearing it and it looked lonely, just thrown on the floor. “I wanna go get curry” he mumbled, stabbing the cigarette out in an ashtray._

_“What kind?” Marcus asked, sitting up, moving between his lover’s thighs, slipping his arms behind his lower back, pulling him closer. “There’s a ton of places to order from unless you wanna go out and get it?” he asked, leaning his head on Wrench’s chest._

_Wrench pressed his lips to Marcus’s head, closing his eyes. “Katsu preferably” he mumbled softly, wrapping his arms loosely around the man’s shoulders. “Can we eat at the one by the pier? The music sucks but the amount of weird people that show up at night are pretty wicked” he closed his eyes, not wanting to move at that moment._

_“Pretty wicked? Where’d that trashy sailor mouth go?” Marcus snorted, glancing up at Wrench. Brown eyes locked with baby blues. “You know that means we need to let go, get up, get dressed…” he moved his head, lightly pressing feathery kisses to Wrench’s neck, dragging his lips over the tattoo._

_“Marcus, you shitbag, do not make it harder to move!” Wrench pulled his arms away, pushing his hands against Marcus’s shoulders, squirming. “I will FART on you!” he threatened, pulling his knees to his chest, to avoid letting Marcus between them._

_Marcus snorted letting out a loud laugh and pulled away, sitting up on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry, please don’t, ‘cause you really do stink” he scrunched up his face, standing up. “Get up, and give me back my hoodie”_

_“No, it’s mine now”_

_“Hell no”_

_“Hell yes” Wrench stood up, holding on to the hoodie and jumping off the bed, running out of the bedroom. “It’s belongs to me now, fuckboy!” he yelled._

_Marcus shook his head. “I’m gettin’ that back!” he yelled after his lover, picking up his jeans from the day before. He dropped them on the desk, reminding himself he needed a clean shirt at least. He walked back to the wardrobe, tugging the t shirt he had on previously off over his head. Warm skinny hands snaked over his bare chest. He looked at the mirror on his wardrobe door, smiling at a pale chin set itself down on his shoulder. “You hate yourself, but I still don’t understand why” he stared at Wrench’s reflection, a soft smile on his lips._

_Wrench’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink as that compliment slipped. “Shut up” he mumbled, moving his head, and burying his face into the back of Marcus’s shoulder. “Just, get dressed, watching you walk around naked, it’s fucking teasing me” he let go, pulling his arms away, and walked to the bed, picking up his clothes from the day before._

_Marcus smiled, watching Wrench from the corner of his eye. He licked his lips, eyes scanning the man’s scrawny form as he began to change. He started to question how a lanky person was quick to jump into danger and survive it. The amount of danger Wrench had gotten himself into at complete random moments was almost uncountable. It did lead to moments where they’d often both sit on the couch at the hackerspace as Sitara would nag their ears off about how they could’ve gotten themselves killed. “Shouldn’t hate yourself so much” he shook his head, opening the wardrobe door, and yanking a shirt off the hanger._

_“Why?”_

_“Don’t ask me why, it’s obvious, it’s because I said so” Marcus closed the door, staring at the mirror. Wrench was now dressed, tugging his hood up staring over at Marcus._

_“Sitara says the same thing, but I don’t listen to her either” Wrench watched, crossing his arms. He walked over to Marcus, wrapping his arms back around him when the shirt was tugged over his torso. “Fuck, you smell nice, like musky nice, I like that shit” he let go._

_Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. He looked at the shirt he had pulled on, the colourful lettering that read Pride. He nodded to himself, picking up a black beanie that hung on the knob of the closet. He pulled it on, walking over to his laptop, and pulling it from it’s charging cable. “So, how did you sleep?” he broke into small talk, not wanting silence to completely take over._

_“Pants, Marcus, you are still walking around in your underwear” Wrench pointed at Marcus’s lower half, voice now synthesized as he adjusted his trademark mask. He flopped backwards onto the kingsized bed, looking up the ceiling._

_“Oh” Marcus looked down at his lower half. “It-It’s a nice look, ya’ know, more room for the boys” he grinned cheekily, picking up the jeans he had been holding previously. He tugged his jeans on, grunting as he did a squat to pull them on properly._

_Wrench let out a giggle from the bed, rolling over on his stomach to watch the minor struggle._

-*-

Marcus opened his eyes, looking out of the window of the truck, staring at the wondering people. He sighed, sitting up and leaning his elbows on his knees, nudging his glasses up to rub at his eyes. He wanted to cry in anger and frustration. He was scared for Wrench, scared of what was about to happen. He lifted his head when he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder.

“We’re gonna get through this, Mark” T-bone squeezed Marcus’s shoulder. “We’re all scared, we may be getting hit hard but didn’t some wise ass say we need to hit back twice as hard?” he asked, a grin creeping up on to his lips as he got a smile from Marcus. “He’s waiting for us to save his ass, can’t be sitting and hesitating” he opened the car door, letting go of the guy’s shoulder.

Marcus nodded, gripping his phone. He looked at his lockscreen, dragging his thumb lightly over the selfie of him and Wrench, taken during a movie night. The workers were suspicious of Wrench’s mask, wondered if he was filming. A quick conversation the side away from Wrench of course, and they understood. Anxiety’s a bitch. “Let’s go get that question” he mumbled, opening the door and climbing out of the truck. He slammed the door shut, walking over to T-bone.

Sitting on the steps of one of the houses was someone was clearly a member of the Bratva. He held an envelope in one hand, a cigarette in the other. The box balanced on his knee, looked similar to the brand that Wrench would often buy. He stood up, letting the fag hang from his crusted lips. He walked over to Marcus, holding out the envelope.

Marcus was hesitant to take it, arms still partly holding on to himself. He pulled one hand away, taking the envelope. He looked at it, grazing a thumb over it, hoping, near praying that these questions would be easy to answer. He tore open the envelope, pulling out the paper. Written in blue ink read: “How much money was lost during the raid on the warehouse in Bay Area?” The question didn’t make much sense, likely typed by someone who’s English wasn’t yet fluent. Marcus folded his arms, though holding one arm out, looking over the question, repeating it in his head. “Josh?”

“Yeah?” a voice responded in Marcus’s earphones.

“The warehouse we hit last week, how much money did the Bratva lose?” Marcus asked. He had destroyed several drug packages, and even took some cash that was laying around. It was counted out, and Josh normally kept it written down somewhere on his computer, though he never understood why but now, he sort of did.

“The money you found and the drug shipments, we estimated up to 950,000 dollars” Josh spoke, breaking the silence. “Are they asking for the money back? We already gave it away to some families and shelters” Josh sounded uneasy.

Marcus ignored the question, deciding to answer it later. “950,000 dollars”

The Bratva member turned as soon as the answer was said, pulling out his phone, speaking in Russian as the person he called answered. He nodded, humming in response then hung up, turning back to Marcus. “Wrong answer” he grinned.

Marcus clenched his fist, raising it about to swing. T-bone grabbed a hold of the younger man’s arms, pulling him back. “Marcus, no, we can’t do anything more to piss them off!” he scowled, tugging him back. “It’s one question, one hackerspace, we can afford that” he tried to calm the situation down, loosening his grip when he felt Marcus start to calm.

Sitara coughed, causing the attention to be turned on to the voice channel. “You are so lucky we got out of there in time” she choked. “Everyone got out, oh my god, the house”

“The answer was wrong, sorry Sitara” Marcus sighed, walking away, wandering back over to the truck, and leaning against it.

“It’s fine, it’s just one, and no one was in it, any information is most likely stored elsewhere too” Sitara’s voice began to clear up. “How’s Wrench doing? Josh?” she asked.

“Not good but good, he’s still alive at least, but awake now, they’re… They’re hurting him” he mumbled the last part of his sentence, seeming to be uncomfortable.

“Marcus, don’t—” Marcus lifted a hand, hushing the older man, and unzipping his bag and pulling out his laptop. He opened it up, turning it on. Within minutes the livestream loaded. “Marcus!” T-bone slammed the laptop shut. “Don’t, you’ll only make it harder for yourself!”

-*-

The camera zoomed over Wrench’s body as he twisted, forcing himself up on his knees. A member kicked Wrench against the car, pressing his foot hard into his stomach. “Look who’s awake!” they began to laugh. One climbed on top of the car, leaning over the side and grabbing Wrench’s arms, pulling them so the ropes were now hooked. Wrench dangled there, helpless, trying to pull his arms free, gritting his teeth at the ropes dug into his skin.

They began to laugh, filming his weak, pathetic state, zooming in on the mask, giggling at the angry emotes. “It reminds me of an angry little kid!” one snorted, walking over to Wrench. He reached for the mask, about to pull it roughly from the man’s face. Wrench bought a leg up, pressing his foot against the scumbag’s chest, shoving him back. “Get the fuck off me!” he yelled.

“Kicking out with those legs of yours? Not good, not good at all” one tutted, pulling a switchblade from his pocket. He walked over, yanking at Wrench’s jeans. “Bet you won’t move them after this, no, you won’t even be able to move them without needing to cry” the button and zip broke from the force and were tugged down his legs.

Wrench didn’t move his legs until he felt exposed, quickly trying to kick his attacker away. “Get the fuck off me!” he yelled, shaking his head. He suddenly hunched forward in pain, letting out a loud groan as he felt a sharp pain in his thigh. He glanced down, panting. The knife was sticking out of his thigh, no blood was leaking yet, but he had no doubts it would soon run when the knife would be yanked out. “You piece of fucking shit” he grunted, lifting his head up.

“You keep a brave face on for now” the man started. “But soon you’ll be sobbing, begging for us to stop” he yanked out the knife, blood quickly trickling down Wrench’s leg, soaking into his jeans. He stabbed the knife in again, yanking it back out quickly, repeating this action till several wounds decorated the front of his thigh. “Leg looks prettier in red, yeah?” he chuckled, dragging the blade across Wrench’s inner thigh. Blood was quick to leak from that wound, dripping down his inner thigh.

Wrench leaned his head back, panting, wanting to vomit from the pain and from the soreness his throat felt after yelling and screaming. He leaned his head forward beginning to chuckle, soon breaking out into a loud laugh, grinning under the mask. “Go ahead, assholes, give me all you got, I can fucking take it” he growled, ignoring the pain and stinging session on his leg. “I’d rather die before I cry in front of you” he spat.

-*-

Josh stared at the screen in front of him, lowering his head. He pulled his hands away from the keyboard, beginning to rock as he clasped them together, almost wanting to pray if that would work. He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against his hands, scrunching up his face when hot tears stung his eyes. He opened his eyes, looking at the screen. “This is horrible, guys, they’re hurting him” he sniffed, watching as the camera was angled at Wrench’s injured and blooded thigh.

“Josh, just cover up the video or somethin’, don’t watch any of it, I’m coming back” T-bone spoke, feeling concern raise over Josh’s mental health. He knew torture would happen, though he expected a beating, pulling out a few teeth, not God damn stabbing.

“Marcus, Marcus, please hurry, he doesn’t deserve this, he’s gonna die” Josh was near tears, bringing his hands to cover his face. He stood up, moving away from his computer.

“He’s not gonna die!” Marcus snapped, head too far gone into frustration and determination. “He’ll be fine, he’s strong, he can hold on, we’ll get him back!” he yelled, and left the voice channel, walking over to a random Subaru that was parked nearby.

“Marcus!” Sitara yelled just as he left the voice channel. “Josh, sweetie, you’re doing great so far, did you get anywhere? Find any IP at all?” she asked.

Josh shook his head, crouching down covering his ears. “No, no, they’ve got so many firewalls up, I can’t find anything, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he repeated his apology over and over, choking on his own words. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry”

“Josh, calm down, shit he’s gonna go into a meltdown, Sitara, this isn’t good”

“Get there fast, I need to head to the other hackerspace, the lines are down”

“This must be the Bratva’s doing”

“I have no doubt in my mind, they’ll fucking pay once this is all over” Sitara was determined. “There’s a weighted blanket under the couch, just throw that over Josh, but first check his arms, he’s gonna scratch himself and sometimes during his meltdowns he’ll bleed” she informed.

T-bone opened the car door to the truck, climbing in. “Got it” his heart was pounding through all of this. He leaned over the wheel briefly, hand clutching his chest. He closed his eyes tightly. He himself was beginning to panic over this situation. He hadn’t been in a scenario like this before, none of his friends had been tortured brutally live on camera, but now one was, and he was just a kid compared to his own age. “Damn it, Wrench” he cursed, annoyed that the anarchist had been foolish with his own drink. He started up the truck, pulling out from it’s parking spot. “Josh? You still with me buddy?” he asked.

“Wrench is hurting” he let out a choked sob, rocking back and forth, holding his knees to his chest, closing eyes tightly. “Oh God, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t find it, I’m sorry” he whispered repeatedly, beginning to pant, feeling sickly, chest tightening. He lifted his hands, tugging at his hood, then letting go. He smacked his palm against his forehead. “I can’t do anything! I can’t do anything!” he yelled.

“Just breathe, Josh! Breathe! It’s ok, we won’t make you look at the live stream anymore! I’m coming, I’ll keep an eye on Wrench” T-bone spoke, trying to have himself be heard over Josh’s yelling and panicked sobs. They should of thought this through properly before jumping in head on.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Josh yelled, scratching at his arms, continuing to rock back and forth. He could hear Wrench grunting, groaning, letting out screams in pain, he could hear the thumps as the knife was repeatedly stabbed into his thighs. He shook his head, closing eyes tightly, tears sliding down his cheeks. “Please, please, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” he yelled, standing up, beginning to pace.

T-bone tapped at the keypad, urging the door to hurry up. He slipped through a gap, running down the steps, stumbling slightly. “Josh!” he yelled, walking over to the young man. “Josh, your arms!” he grabbed a hold of Josh, only to be punched away in a surprising amount of strength he wasn’t aware Josh even had. “Fuck!” he covered his mouth. “Wait, blanket, blanket” he repeated to himself, walking over to the couch and kneeling down. “Oh, you gotta show me where you get the strength from” he mumbled, pulling the blanket out from under the couch. He stood up, unfolding it and draping it over Josh, wrapping his arms around and pulling him back from his pacing. “Calm down, calm down!” he repeated forcing Josh to sit.

Josh struggled briefly but slowly calmed, panting, trembling as he bent his upper body forward, trembling. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, Wrench, Wrench…” he mumbled, closing eyes tightly, shaking.

“I know, I know” T-bone pulled the blanket over Josh’s head and stood up, stepping back. He looked down at the trembling lump under the blanket, letting out a sigh. He touched his chin, rubbing it slightly out of minor pain. “Damn, kid, you got one hell of a punch” he mumbled, walking over to the computer. He pulled a chair out, sitting down, and looking over the livestream.

Wrench’s thighs were bloodied and bruised, dripping, bits of skin hanging from the gaping wounds. Wrench’s legs were hardly pale anymore and were caked with blood that had dried in some areas, turning brown and flaking. He was groaning pain, trying his hardest not to move his legs.

“Damn, Josh, I’m sorry”

“Oh, now you’re back in the VC” Sitara exclaimed. “Where have you run off to?” she asked.

“Jesus, Marcus, you’ve lost your head” T-bone spoke up, beginning to feel some anger towards Marcus.

“We’re running on adrenaline here, yeah, I did that”

“It’s not like you either” Sitara mumbled, pointing out the obvious.

“Yeah, she’s right, you didn’t even seem to think this time, normally, you’re the one keeping us in place but this time, you’ve fallen off the rails, Marcus, why has this affected you so badly?” T-bone asked, beginning to feel curious himself.

“Damn it, damn it!” Marcus yelled. “I need to think, calm down and think, I’m sorry, I just threw this… shit, I’m sorry” he mumbled. “Me and Wrench, we’re more than friends, that’s why…” he trailed off.

“Alright, we get it, ok, now till we get to the next place for the next question, let’s stop, and just breathe, we need to think, we need to plan” Sitara spoke up, forcing herself to take charge of the conversation. “Marcus, we know you’re worried, especially now after hearing… that, we are too, we want to find Wrench just as much as you do, did you get the call?” she asked.

“Yeah, they’re waiting outside the hackerspace they just blew the fuck up” Marcus replied, feeling snippy. “Guys, should you really be in the hackerspace, if I get this question wrong…” he spoke, trailing off, mind beginning to think of the worst.

“Shit, you’re right, but I don’t think we can go anywhere right now” T-bone glanced back at Josh, feeling concern raise. “But, I’ll do what I can, we’ll head to Wrench’s garage, or at least try” he stood up, ignoring the computer. He walked over to the bundle on the floor, kneeling down. “Josh, I know you’re just calming down, but we need to go, we could get hurt, and that’s—”

“Lower Wrench’s chances of being found” Josh finished in reply, though he didn’t move, picking to remain still.

“Yeah” T-bone nodded. “We gotta get moving, my truck is just outside, you can play whatever music you want”

Marcus listened for a few minutes, sitting in silence in the car. He glanced over the blocked road, eyeing up the police officers. “I’m gonna go get the next question as soon as you two leave” he informed T-bone and Josh. He gripped his phone, glancing at his lock screen. _I’m coming Wrench, I promise_


End file.
